For Steph H, who generously gave to the victims of Hurricane
Katrina during the Jixemitri Fundraiser.100%
of all monies from fundraiser went to The Red Cross.

Universe
notes: This story takes place on December 24, 1996. Since Jim and Trixie got
married on New Year’s Eve 1995, they are celebrating their first Christmas as
a married couple, even though they’ve almost been married for a year.

The
title is from the Christmas Carol “Believe” and has nothing to do
with the Wheeler’s horse. *g*

Trusting
Starlight

It was their first
Christmas as a married couple, and Trixie wanted it to be perfect.

She’d invited
family and friends, as well as Jim’s adopted parents, over for a Christmas Eve
dinner, and she was determined not only to produce a dinner as good as the ones
Moms made, but have the best decorations and the finest tree.She wanted it to be a Christmas she and Jim would never forget.

Jim, her husband of
almost one year, had eyed her thoughtfully when told of this plan.

“Are you sure you
want to do this?” he’d asked.He
worried that Trixie was taking on too much, although he knew from experience
that the odds of getting her to see it that way were slim to none.He gamely gave it a try, however, and ended up sparking a lively debate
about her cooking abilities that ended after Trixie lured him into their bed to
show him just how serious she was.

Afterwards, he’d
wheezed that okay, yes, she took care of him very well, thank you very much, and
that was pretty much the end of the argument.

Trixie had
languorously rolled off of her husband, more sure than ever that it was time for
her to be a real grown-up and host Christmas dinner.

But now, it was the
morning of Christmas Eve, and she wondered if they’d ever get
everything done.

She’d spent most
of the morning frantically cooking and cleaning and had already made two
emergency trips to Mr. Lytell’s store for missing ingredients, wanting to
scream every time she had to endure Mr. Lytell’s knowing looks. The worst of
it was, she couldn’t very well not invite the old goat over for dinner at that
point.

Who knew the old
goat would actually accept?

If this dinner
didn’t go well, she’d just die.

Trixie walked out
of the front door of the house built for them on part of the land Jim had
inherited from his great-uncle and peered worriedly upwards.Jim had been on the roof for ages trying to figure out why their
Christmas lights had suddenly stopped working.

“Baby, is
everything okay?” she hollered.

“I think I found
the bad strand,” came the distant reply.

“I’ve made hot
chocolate,” she yelled.

“Perfect!” Jim
yelled back.

She was about to
return indoors when she heard a thud and then the horrifyingly unmistakable
sound that could only be the love of her life sliding off the roof towards
certain doom.

“Jim!” she
tried to scream, but only a croak emerged.Great, rolling waves of fear paralyzed her, and her stomach turned to ice
as the world seemed to hold still for a long, hideous moment.She heard an odd scraping sound and then Jim’s voice saying weakly,
“Everything’s fine.”

The breath she
hadn’t realized she was holding whooshed out of her, and her paralysis broke.She charged up the ladder just in time to see Jim shakily regaining his
footing as he slowly rose.

“Whew!Thought I was a goner!” he joked.

Trixie blinked back
tears.“Are you okay?”

Jim grimaced as he
held up his hands.“Yeah, but
I’ve scraped the hell out of my hands.They’re
full of splinters, too.”

Trixie, who’d
once unwittingly slid down a wooden chute, felt her bottom twitch in agonized
sympathy.

Back inside the
house, Jim gritted his teeth as Trixie gently pulled out the splinters one by
one with the sterilized tweezers from their first aid kit and then painted his
palms with iodine.Trixie felt as
if her own hands were on fire as she carefully wrapped gauze around his.

Jim looked ruefully
at his bandaged hands. “Some help I’m going to be for the rest of the
day,” he said.“I’m sorry,
Shamus.”

Trixie gulped
inwardly when she thought about her “to do” list.“Don’t worry about it.I’m
just glad you’re okay.I can
manage.”

Jim avoided sighing
just in the nick of time. He phrased what he said next very carefully. “Trix,
I really appreciate everything you’re planning, but you know that our first
Christmas will be special no matter what, right? And that you don’t have
to…”

“But Jim, I want
this to be a Christmas we’ll always remember!”

This time, he did
sigh. “I guess my telling you that any Christmas I get to spend with you as my
wife is one I’ll always remember won’t talk you into calling your mom to
come over here and help you, will it?”

Trixie was torn
between tenderness at the first part of Jim’s sentence and annoyance at the
last. “Jim, I want to do this myself. It’s important to me.”

Jim knew that
arguing with her was fruitless.If
only Trixie weren’t so stubborn, but, then, he supposed, she wouldn’t be the
girl he fell in love with, would she?Instead,
he kissed her lightly and said, “I’ll just finish up wrapping the gifts.”
He glanced at his hands. “Um, do we have any gift bags?”

Trixie left Jim in
the living room, biting back a laugh at the site of him picking up gifts between
his inner elbows and dropping them into brightly colored bags. At least it was
getting done.

She entered the
kitchen and eyed the turkey sitting in the large, roasting pan she had recently
purchased.It was time to pop that bad boy into the oven.

She’d heard
horror stories about turkeys so dry they broke carving knives.Well, that was not going to happen to her!She made sure to buy a turkey that came with a nifty little pop-up button
that let you know when it was done.And,
the pièce de résistance, she had found the perfect glaze recipe on the
Internet.Loaded with melted
butter, it promised a turkey so golden and juicy that her guests’ eyeballs
would roll back into their heads in ecstasy.

She smeared some
more on, just to be safe, and then wrestled the pan into the oven.Trixie let out a sigh of relief as she set the timer. Now that the turkey
was actually stuffed, glazed, and in the oven, she felt like she was truly on
her way.

She wasn’t
exactly sure why she was so opposed to asking for help with this dinner.Over the years, she had finally learned that counting on her friends and
family was a sign of strength, and that every time she rushed off alone, like
the time she had gone to meet Pedro, Blinky, and Big Tony in New York City when
she had been a teenager, or when she had gone off with Mrs. Waters, the mother
of the victim in a case that Trixie was working on, who turned out to be loony
tunes, it generally ended in disaster.

But this was
different.It wasn’t that she
doubted Jim’s love for her or anything like that, but she sometimes wondered
if Jim secretly longed for somebody who was more like his birth mother, more
like Trixie’s mother.Somebody
who truly kept house and was more domestically inclined.

She knew that Jim
sometimes longed for that time, long ago, when he had been a boy.And that one of the first things he had ever told Trixie was that she’d
like his mother because she was a lot like her mother.

Yet here Jim was,
married to a woman who had just finished up an internship with the FBI, and who
was planning, along with her best friend Honey, to start her own detective
agency.

Sometimes, it was
hard to believe that she was…enough for him.

This dinner had to
be perfect. She needed to get a move on.

Trixie looked at
the pile of potatoes that needed peeling, thought about Jim’s bandaged hands,
and wanted to cry.

It was very
important for her to remember that he had narrowly escaped falling off of their
roof and cracking his head open like an old pumpkin.

It was also
important to remember that she was doing all of this for him.Trixie ignored the little voice who whispered, Are you sure about
that?

Jim walked into the
kitchen at that moment and caught sight of her expression. “Uh…you want me
to vacuum?”

In the entryway,
Jim managed to worm the old, upright vacuum cleaner out of the coat closet and
get it plugged in.He and Trixie kept meaning to replace it with a nice, bagless
model, but they were both so busy all the time that they had never gotten around
to it.

He fumbled with the
on switch a few times and, to Jim’s relief, it roared to life.If there was anything he couldn’t bear, it was being unable to help
somebody when he knew they needed it.

Not that Trixie was
making it very easy at the moment, but Jim had a sneaking suspicion about what
was going on in that curly head of hers.It
was one of their oldest arguments, and he sometimes wondered if they’d still
be having it when they were both old and gray.

He shook his head,
turning his attention back to the matter at hand.After a few passes with the old vacuum cleaner across the floor, it was
obvious that not much was happening.Opening
the back, he groaned at the sight of the full bag.It wouldn’t be easy changing it in his present condition, but, judging
from the wild banging sound of pans coming from the kitchen, now wasn’t the
best time to interrupt his wife.

After a fruitless
search for a new vacuum cleaner bag, Jim was just about at the end of his rope.
He spotted a bag of plastic garbage bags tucked in the back of the closet.
“It’s a bag. It will work,” he said aloud.

Trixie was
frantically peeling potatoes when she heard a very loud POP coming from the
living room, then a series of crashes and Jim, very unusually, cursing in a way
that would make a sailor blush.

She dashed from the
kitchen into a world gone mad.

Trixie choked on
the thick dust that filled every inch of the air, making their living room look
like a Saharan sand storm.Their
vacuum cleaner was dancing across the living room rug, letting out odd wheezes,
as it careened around the room, Jim in hot pursuit.He almost had it when it first slammed into the end table by the couch, a
beautiful lamp given to them by Jim’s adoptive parents toppling over with a
crash, before zooming into their Christmas tree.

Trixie let out a
scream as the large tree toppled over backwards and smashed through the living
room window.

The plug to the
vacuum cleaner pulled out of the wall, and the vacuum cleaner gave a final,
uncontrollable lurch before crashing to the floor with a long, moaning wheeze as
if it was exhausted by its efforts.

There was a long
moment of silence.

“Oops,” Jim
finally said.

***

Believe
in what your heart is saying,

hear
the melody that's playing.

There's
no time to waste,

there's
so much to celebrate.

Believe
in what you feel inside,

And
give your dreams the wings to fly.

You
have everything you need,

If
you just believe

Trixie was
adjusting the volume on the small radio in the kitchen when one of her favorite
Christmas carols came on.Their
first guests had arrived minutes before, and Trixie had managed to calm down
considerably, mostly thanks to the large glass of wine that Jim had
uncharacteristically pressed on her.

“Any special
reason there’s cardboard duct-taped over your living room window?” her
brother Brian asked as he stepped in to the kitchen, his wife Honey at his side.

“It’s the
latest thing, didn’t you know?” Trixie replied.She reflected privately that it went beautifully with the shards of glass
hastily swept underneath the Christmas tree skirt.She picked up her pastry bag and began laboriously piping deviled egg
mixture into the large plate of hard-boiled egg whites that she’d meant to
complete before any of her guests had arrived.

“Want some help
with that?” Honey asked.

Trixie shook her
head as she bent closer. For some reason, the mixture wasn’t coming out as
neatly as when she started.“No,
thanks; I’m just about done.”She
squeezed the bag a little harder and let out a surprised yell as the pastry bag
exploded, spewing yellow egg filling all over her face, hair, hands, and the
counter; basically, everywhere except the egg whites where it belonged.

It must be said
that Brian and Honey loved Trixie very much and would never want to see any kind
of harm or hardship befall her.

And they tried
their best not to laugh; they really did.

“Oh, Trix, stand
still while I get a dishtowel,” Honey finally managed to gurgle, while Brian,
in the way of big brothers everywhere, was nearly bent to the floor; he was
laughing so hard.

Honey rushed back,
damp towel in hand, to her sister-in-law, who stood very still.Because she started with Trixie’s face, Honey discovered quickly that
Trixie wasn’t laughing along with them.

Diana entered the
kitchen at that moment and, after taking in the situation in a glance, swung
into immediate action, snatching up the mostly completed platter of deviled eggs
and thrusting it into Brian’s hands.

“Brian, take
these out to everyone.Honey, get
Trixie cleaned up as best as you can.I’m
going to run upstairs and get her something else to wear.”

Honey gently wiped
off the rest of the egg while Trixie struggled to compose herself, wisely not
saying anything.Soon, Diana
returned with a nice, blue dress, and all three women rushed into the large,
downstairs guestroom, Honey calling out to the other guests that they’d all be
right back.

As soon as Trixie
was presentable again, Honey pounced.“Trixie
Belden, what’s going on with you? It’s not the end of the world.You’re usually able to laugh at yourself a lot better than this.”

“What
thoughts?” Trixie asked, turning around so that Honey could zip her up.

Diana crossed her
arms. “You know very well what thoughts, Trixie Frayne.”

Trixie reddened.“I just want everything to be nice.What’s wrong with that?”

Honey smiled
gently.“Nothing, if that’s all
it is.”

“Of course
that’s all it is.What else would it be?”Trixie knew her best friends were only concerned for her, so she kept the
impatience out of her voice the best she could.It didn’t help matters that they were annoyingly right.“Well, I’ve got to get back to the kitchen,” she said, abruptly
leaving the room. “Thanks!” she called over her shoulder.

Honey and Diana
looked at each other again and shrugged, knowing that, at least for the moment,
there wasn’t much they could do for their stubborn friend.

***

Trixie opened the
oven for the umpteenth time and stared at the turkey in dismay.Why wasn’t the clever, little button popping out?She glanced at the clock; the turkey had been in there much longer than
Trixie had anticipated.The mashed
potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, and homemade rolls were done, in
fact, Bobby and Mart were taking them into the dining room for her.

There was nothing
else to be done but remove the turkey, serve it, and hope for the best.

Jim entered the
kitchen. “Want some help taking it out of the oven?”

When she glanced at
his bandaged hands, he held them out to her, adding, “They’re feeling much
better. Just stick those oven mitts on for me, and they’ll be fine.”

Jim smiled at her,
and Trixie was suddenly struck by how right he was.It would be fine; it was fine
because they were here, together, in their own house, in their own life.And if that included exploding vacuum cleaners and deviled
egg mixture that went everywhere except into the egg whites, well, so be it.

Trixie sighed
inwardly. Her best friends knew her all too well.She glanced upwards and caught Jim looking at her in a way
she was all too familiar with.

He knew her pretty
well, too.

Trixie took a deep
breath and smiled a real smile.“I’d
love some help.”

Jim kissed the top
of her head.“Good.”

Together, they
pulled the heavy pan out of the oven and set it carefully onto the counter,
where Jim deftly transferred the turkey to the waiting platter.It smelled heavenly and sported a nice, golden-brown color.

Trixie heaved out a
huge sigh. “Oh, thank God it looks okay, even though the stupid button never
did pop out.”

Jim just laughed
and shook his head.“Hey, I
thought I was supposed to be the worrier in this family.”He pushed the curls out of her eyes before leaning down and kissing her
so deeply she felt like her knees were giving way. Then, he held her while she
quickly admitted what he’d already suspected.

Jim listened, and,
to his credit, didn’t remind her that they’d had this discussion before. He
knew they had everything they could ever need; the trick was believing it. He
didn’t care how many times he had to tell her what he was about to tell her
now.

It would be a cold
day in Hell before Jim ever told his wife that, thanks to the enthusiastic
application of the buttery glaze she’d bestowed on the turkey, the little
button had been, in essence, glued into the first turkey she ever cooked for
him.

He casually poured
a generous serving of gravy on each slice as he carved the driest turkey in
Sleepyside and placed it on the plates being passed around the table.

The faces of family
and friends glowed with good cheer in the candle-lit room, and the feeling of
happiness was palpable.

Even Mr. Lytell
seemed in unusually good humor—at least, he was eating a great deal and not
complaining about anything.

Jim was glad—he
didn’t want anything else happening that could cause his wife to think that
the evening was anything less than perfect.

Trixie was regaling
everyone with the vacuum cleaner adventure when it happened.

Mr. Lytell got up
from his chair and leaned forward to grab the gravy boat.As it happens, it was a rather large and heavy gravy boat that Jim and
Trixie had received as a wedding gift.

“Uh, can I help
you with that, sir?” Trixie’s youngest brother, Bobby, who was sitting to
Mr. Lytell’s left, began to reach out a helping hand.

Mr. Lytell ignored
him, bending down to pick it up.Underestimating
both the size and the weight of it, he grunted a bit and pulled hard as he
reached.

Just then, his
false teeth fell out of his mouth and plopped into the remains of the gravy.

The sounds around
the table were immediate and varied. The sounds of gasps and forks dropping
mingled with a few stifled snickers as Trixie’s mouth fell open in complete
disbelief.

Mr. Lytell glanced
down, clearly worried about the gravy that had splashed onto his shirt.

Trixie’s mother
gracefully rose and went to Mr. Lytell, seeing that her daughter was frozen in
shock.

“Here…let me
help you,” she said, reaching for the gravy boat.

To everyone’s
surprise, Mr. Lytell shook his head, dipped two bony fingers into the gravy, and
fished out his teeth.Without
further ado, he slipped them back into his mouth.

“That’s good
gravy,” he said.

Trixie rose to her
feet.“Um…I need to check on my
pies,” she managed to choke before bolting.

Jim rose.“I think I’ll see if she needs any help.”He practically ran into the kitchen.

Trixie’s back was
to him and, just as he feared, her shoulders were shaking, her hands up to her
face.

“Ah, Trix…”
he began, helplessly.He put his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her
around.

Tears were
streaming down her face, and it took Jim a moment to understand what they meant.

“G…g..good guh
guh..gravy!” Trixie was finally able to sputter, her face red with effort.She buried her face into Jim’s chest, and they both shook with
suppressed laughter for several minutes.

Trixie finally
raised her head, wiping at her eyes. “I must look awful, “ she chuckled.

“You look
happy,” Jim said.

Trixie took a deep
breath.“I am,” she said.“I am happy.”

Jim took her in his
arms.“Me, too.”He leaned his forehead against hers for a long moment. “Very happy.”

Trixie’s heart
swelled—it was everything she’d ever wanted.

Jim gave her a
quick kiss.“Ready to go back
in?” he asked.

Trixie nodded.She was ready for whatever life had in store for her.And, she had to admit; it had turned out to be a Christmas
that she and Jim would never forget!

They returned to
the dining room, hand-in-hand, back to where their family and friends waited for
them—back into their life.

Trains
move quickly to their journey's end.

Destinations
are where we begin again.

Ships
go sailing far across the sea.

Trusting
starlight, to get where they need to be.

The
End

Author’s
Notes:

A
big thank you to Steph H., not only
for donating to a worthy cause, but for being so patient with me!You should all know that it was her idea for me to write about Jim and
Trixie’s first Christmas as a married couple, and that the
button-stuck-in-the-turkey bit was also her idea (apparently, it happened to her
poor Mom one infamous Christmas. D'oh!)

I’d
also like to thank Susan for her fast
edit.Yes, Susan….they do
make bagless vacuum cleaners! *g*

I
found some of the disastrous moments by surfing the ‘net for “holiday
mishaps.”In my own experience,
the only catastrophic Christmas I can recall is the one where my beloved dog got
killed a few days before, and I sure didn’t want to write about that! **insert EEK emoticon here**

The
quoted lyrics are from the song “Believe” by Josh Groban and are used
without permission.I don’t think
this song was written until fairly recently, so, please ignore the fact that
this story is set in 1996.It’s
creative license! Yeah…that’s the
ticket! :)